


Noah's First Real Christmas

by TeddysHoney



Series: You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, Books, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Tree, Contrafactum Song, Guitar, M/M, Music, Ornaments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22181458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddysHoney/pseuds/TeddysHoney
Summary: Noah's never celebrated Christmas before, and Daddy and Papa are more than happy to help him celebrate if that's what he wants. Or, Daddy, Papa, and Noah learn another big lesson together.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel/Noah Puckerman
Series: You and Me Plus Puckerman Spells Family [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059878
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Hesitation

Kurt and Blaine waited until December to bring up Christmas to Noah. They knew things had probably been rough in the past, and they anticipated that Christmas might be a sore subject for their boy. So, they brought it up one evening at bedtime when Noah was usually a bit more compliant.

“Noah, can you tell me about what you did for Christmas before you came to live with Daddy and me?” Kurt asked during his bedtime diaper change.

“Um, not much,” Noah replied, not really sure why Papa wanted to know.

“Did you have presents?”

Noah shook his head. “Not for a long time.”

“How long?” Kurt didn't want to press the subject, but that information could be important.

“I was real small. Maybe five?” he guessed.

It was hard for Kurt not to react to that, but he did his best to take this answer in stride. He'd basically been expecting that answer anyway. “What did you do after there were no more presents?” he asked casually. “Would you like jammies with planes or race cars?”

“Planes?”

“It's your choice, sweetheart. I won't be mad about what you pick.”

Noah felt a warm spot grow in his chest. He loved it when Daddy and Papa called him 'sweetheart,' but he'd never admit that. “Planes,” he said a little more decisively.

“Planes it is,” Papa agreed, coming over to the bed. He thought about re-asking his question, but he wanted to give Noah space. It was probably very hard for him to talk about.

Once Noah's jammie pants were on and Papa was getting ready to pull his jammie shirt over his head, he mumbled, “Movies, mostly. With my sister.” He was quiet and seemed embarrassed to admit what he used to do.

“Did you like watching movies?”

Noah shrugged. “Dunno,” he replied, raising his arms so Papa could pull his shirt on. “My mom was never home.”

“That would be hard,” Kurt replied gently. Deciding it might help to give Noah a bit of a break, he said, “Why don't you go brush your teeth, and I'll get Daddy to come up so we can read a bedtime story.

“Kay, Papa,” Noah agreed, heading off toward his bathroom. He was feeling tired but talking with Papa was okay. It was kind of nice actually. He had recently allowed himself to admit that maybe living with Daddy and Papa was a good thing. He felt safe and happy there. Most of the time.

“Ready for a bedtime story?” Daddy asked when he walked back into his room. At Noah's nod, he said, “Go pick out a story then come sit with us.” He patted the chair between himself and Kurt.

Noah hurried to his bookshelf, selecting three titles before taking his seat excitedly between Daddy and Papa. He loved bedtime stories. He'd never had them as a child and from the minute Daddy had suggested it, he'd never looked back. He was even more excited when Daddy and Papa had surprised him with the big reading chair. It was more like a couch than a chair. A love seat Papa had said. Daddy's friend from school had been able to make it rock, and it was where they sat every night to read. Noah could be tucked up next to whoever was reading or sprawled out across their laps. Someone usually played with his hair or rubbed his back. Bedtime stories were his favorite because he had never felt more loved than he did then.

“Who's reading tonight?” Daddy asked, pulling Noah into a tight hug against him.

“Um, you start?” he asked shyly, glancing at Kurt to make sure that was okay.

“It's fine, sweetheart,” Papa assured him.

Noah felt that warm, fuzzy feeling again as he snuggled into Daddy for his first story.

After all three books were read, one by Papa and two by Daddy, Kurt gave him a big hug and a kiss and tucked him in. Then, he left Daddy and Noah alone for a few minutes, so they could chat if they wanted to. Kurt and Blaine had found that it worked better for them to both have their alone time with their boy; sometimes he would open up to one of them about something and not the other.

“Daddy?” Noah asked sleepily as Daddy sat on the edge of his bed. “Why come Papa aksin 'bout Chris'mas?” He yawned widely.

“Well, Christmas is coming at the end of the month, and Papa and I want you to have a good holiday.”

“You want us watch movies?” he asked.

“If that's what you want. But if you want presents and Santa Claus, that's okay, too.”

Noah paused, thinking. “Santa's not for reaw.”

“Maybe not. But, if you believe he is, then he will come.” Daddy smiled at him. “Would you like Santa Claus to come this Christmas, Noah?”

“Is okay?” Noah asked. He wasn't sure he wanted Santa, but presents might be nice.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Daddy said, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “You get to pick how we celebrate Christmas. Papa and I want you to be safe and happy.”

Noah was silent for a moment, thinking. Finally, he said, “Want presents and Santa, pwease.” He yawned again, his eyes almost closing.

“That's what we'll do then, my sweet, sweet boy,” Daddy replied quietly. Gently he kissed his forehead and tucked the blankets in around his chin. “Good night, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Yove you, Daddy,” Noah replied, curling up on his side.

“Sleep well.” Blaine's ears were met with a snore. Quietly, he stood and pulled the door nearly shut behind him, leaving it open just a crack to let in the light from the hall. Then, he tiptoed to the living room where Kurt was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and a magazine. “He asleep?” he asked at the sound of his husband's footsteps.

“Out like a light,” Blaine confirmed, settling in next to Kurt. “He told me he wants Santa Claus and presents for Christmas.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, delighted. “I was hoping he would! He told me he hasn't gotten a Christmas gift since he was five. My heart felt like it was breaking, Blaine. That's so sad. I really want to go all out, but I'm afraid that will be too much...”

“All out how?”

“Decorations, lights, gifts,” Kurt explained putting down his magazine and making eye contact with his husband. “I just don't want to push him. I don't know if he's ever had a Christmas like that.” He paused. After a moment he asked, “And, do you think we should celebrate Hanukkah? He is Jewish, after all. And very proud of it. At least, he was in high school.”

Blaine chuckled. “These sound like questions for our Noah,” he replied, leaning in to give Kurt a kiss. “I think if you suggest doing some of this stuff to him, he might be okay with it. I mentioned Santa Claus, and he latched onto the idea.”

Kurt nodded, glancing briefly at his watch. “I'll have to ask him. But right now, you and I should get to bed. It's already 11:30, and he'll be up before 7.”

Blaine yawned as he rose from the couch. “I am tired,” he agreed, stretching. “Taking care of Noah takes a lot out you. He's been so good, though.”

“He has. It took us a while, but I think we're earning his trust,” Kurt agreed.

“I'd hardly say a few months was a while.” He stretched again.

Kurt smiled. “Well, I'd say that if you don't stop stretching like that, bedtime for us will be a few more hours away. You know I can't resist your body.” He ran his hands along Blaine's stomach underneath his shirt.

“Mmm. As much as I would like that, I'm afraid we should get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow.” He gave Kurt a kiss to the lips. When he pulled back and saw a pout firmly fixed on his husband's lips, he whispered, “Fine. I promise tomorrow. Now, can we go to bed? I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I think someone is going to want to get started on Christmas with Noah.” He winked at Kurt.

“Yes, we'll go to bed, you grumpy old man,” Kurt teased, putting his hand into one of Blaine's back pockets. “Let's go.” And they sauntered down the hallway to their room, falling into bed gratefully.

Noah had a lot of dreams that night after talking to Daddy and Papa. He fell asleep thinking about Santa Claus, and his dreams only got more Christmassy from there. He dreamed about opening gifts from Daddy and Papa, getting all the toys and books he'd ever dreamed of having. He dreamed about baking cookies and having giant feasts. And, he dreamed about kisses and cuddles and snow and Christmas movies to his hearts delight.

When he woke the next morning, he felt funny. On one hand, he was eager for Daddy and Papa to tell him what they were going to do for Christmas. On the other hand, he'd enjoyed his dreams so much that he was scared to have them come true. What if Daddy and Papa did buy him all those presents and love him and give him kisses and cuddles? Would he finally feel like maybe they'd been right? Would he feel like he could be their baby forever instead of just pretending? He already thought he was maybe enjoying this more than he wanted to, and the thought of completely committing to it was scarier than anything else. Upon coming to that decision, he decided that maybe it would be a good idea to stick close to Daddy and Papa; they always made scary things far less scary than he'd thought.

So, when Kurt and Blaine showed up in Noah's room the next morning, they had a very cuddly, clingy baby. “You feel okay, sweetheart?” Kurt asked after his diaper change. It wasn't that he didn't like having a snuggly baby, but Noah was usually very independent when he wasn't tired. If he was tired after a full nights sleep, there might be something wrong.

“'m fine,” Noah confirmed, reaching for the stuffed dino on his bed, Super Rex. “Just wan' you, p'ease.” 

“If you're sure,” Kurt said, not really believing the boy. Noah didn't use baby talk much unless he was tired or upset, and Papa was worried about what might have his boy upset. “We have a very snuggly baby this morning, Daddy,” he announced, giving his husband a concerned look when Daddy turned to look at them.

“Is that so,” Daddy asked, walking over to them and putting a hand on Noah's forehead. “You feelin' okay, sweetheart?” he asked. 

Noah squirmed in Papa's hold. “'m fine,” he insisted. Why did everybody keep askin' that? Wasn't he allowed to be snuggly?”

“Okay,” Daddy said, rubbing his back lightly. “Make sure you tell Daddy or Papa if you start to feel icky, though. Okay?”

Noah nodded, rubbing his cheek against Super Rex. “'m hungwy.”

“We're having peanut butter toast this morning. How does that sound?” Daddy asked. “Do you want orange juice or apple juice?”

“Can I has jelly?” Noah asked as Papa put him in a chair at the table. “And oy'nge p'ease.”

“Do you want strawberry or grape jelly?”

“Um, grape?”

“It's your choice, sweetheart. You can make a choice. No one will be mad.”

“Grape, p'ease.”

“You're being so polite today, sweetie,” Kurt complimented him as he sat down at the table with his own toast and a steaming cup of coffee. “Daddy and I are so proud of you for being our polite boy.”

Noah smiled just a bit. Having Daddy and Papa be proud of him was almost as good as being called 'sweetheart.'

“Do you remember our conversation from last night, Noah?” Daddy asked, bringing him his requested toast and a sippy cup of orange juice.

“'bout Santa?”

“Uh huh. And about the presents?”

Noah nodded, his mouth full of peanut butter toast.

“Well, Papa and I forgot to ask you if you want to celebrate Hanukkah.”

Stopping mid-chew, Noah looked at Daddy with large eyes and shook his head vehemently. “Nuh uh.”

“Why not?”

“Don' wanna.”

“Are you sure? It's okay with us if you want to celebrate,” Papa told him. “You'll just have to tell us about what to do because Daddy and I aren't Jewish.”

“Don' wanna be Jewish,” Noah explained around a mouthful of toast. “We didn' even weally do it after my Nana died, and I didn' yike it.”

“That's okay,” Daddy explained, coming over to the table with his plate of toast and cup of coffee. “Papa and I just wanted to make sure you got to celebrate if you wanted to. Not wanting to celebrate is okay, too.”

Noah shook his head again as he said, “Jus' Santa p'ease.”

“Just Santa it is, then,” Kurt agreed. He sipped at his coffee a bit before asking, “Have you ever decorated for Christmas before, Noah?”

“Uh uh.”

“Did your mommy put up a tree for you when you were little?”

Again, Noah shook his head. “Too 'spensive,” he explained sadly.

“Well, what do you think about putting up a tree with me and Daddy?” Kurt asked. His eyes twinkled at the thought, but he didn't want to push Noah. If a tree was too much, he could do without one until Noah felt like he was ready.

“I fink that is okay,” Noah said carefully, taking a long swig from his sippy cup. “Finn's mommy used to has one, an' it was pretty.”

“Would you like to help me put it up?” Kurt asked.

“You has one?”

“Yes. Daddy and I have a lot of Christmas decorations. You can decide what we put up if you want to. Daddy and I want you to feel safe and happy, not overwhelmed.

Noah thought for a few moments, finishing off his toast and drinking some more of his juice before he replied, “Can I yook at it?”

“At the decorations?” Papa asked, clarifying.

The little boy gave a nod of his head.

“Of course,” Papa replied. “We can look at some of it this morning. Daddy has some really important work to do today, so while he does boring adult stuff, you and I can have fun. How does that sound?”

Noah smiled. Daddy and Papa teased each other a lot about being boring adults. He thought Daddy was maybe a little bit more fun to play with, but Papa had a good 'magination, so they got to do lots of story-oriented play. Daddy was better at building and crashing stuff, though. 

Daddy pouted from his seat next to Noah. “I wanna do fun stuff, too!”

Giggling, Noah said, “Sorry, Daddy! You is boring!” He put his sippy cup in his mouth, preparing to take another drink when Daddy's hand snaked out, tickling his ribs. “No! Daddy! No tickles!” he protested, spilling some juice down his jammie shirt as his cup tipped towards him.

Daddy stopped just long enough to set the sippy on the table before returning. “How's this for being boring?” he asked, grinning.

“Daddy! Stop! I sorry you're boring!”

“You're sorry I'm boring?!” Daddy thundered, tickling harder. “You're sorry I'm boring?!”

“Sorry! Not boring! Not boring!” Noah panted as he slid off of his chair and onto the floor to escape Daddy's fingers. “Not boring,” he repeated, grinning up at Blaine.

“That's better,” Blaine said, glancing across the table at his husband and winking. “Papa's boring, but I'm not.”

Kurt gave Blaine a mock glare. “I'm far more interesting than you, Mr. Ander-Hummel,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I don't know about that Mr. Ander-Hummel,” Blaine replied. Then, “All that aside though, I seem to have lost my baby. Do you know where he is?”

“If you've lost your baby, that must mean I've lost mine as well!” Kurt said, sounding panicked. “We have to find him!”

Noah had been ready to get back into his chair. He was thirsty, but when he heard Daddy and Papa looking for their “lost” baby, he stayed on the floor, giggling.

“Did you hear that?” Blaine asked, glancing under the table and looking right over Noah. “I heard a giggle, but I still can't find my baby.”

“Is he under the blanket?” Kurt asked, rising to lift the blanket from the couch. “No. Not there.”

“Under my plate?” Daddy asked, looking there. “No. Not there either!”

“Where could he be?” Papa asked. 

“Here I is!” Noah yelled, popping up from under the table. “I am not lost, Daddy!” 

“My baby!” Daddy exclaimed, pulling Noah into a tight hug. “Thank goodness you're safe! I was so worried!” He began to kiss Noah all over his face, making his boy squeal with delight.

“There he is!” Kurt said, rushing across the room. “I need to kiss him, too!”

Then, both Daddy and Papa were smooching all over Noah's face; he laughed and laughed, delighted with all the attention. When they finally let him go, he was a sticky mess. “'m sticky!” he said, feeling his cheeks.

“How about...” Daddy suggested, “you and I go get you in the tub so Papa can do a little work, and then you can look at our Christmas decorations with Papa after your bath. Okay?”

“Baf cwayons?” 

“Sure, sweetheart. You can draw in the bath for a little while. We have time.”

“Yay!” Noah replied, jumping up from his chair and racing back toward his bathroom. 

“Noah!” Daddy called after him.

The boy skidded to a stop in the hallway. “Whaaaaaaaat?” he sing-songed.

“Come finish your juice, please. You just have a few drinks left.”

Noah let out a little sigh before he raced back to the table and slurped down the rest of his juice. Then, he was off again, excited to get to color on the bathtub walls.

“Use your walking feet,” Daddy called after him, smiling at Kurt. “Get some work done,” he said. “I'll try to keep him entertained for as long as I can.”

“Thank you!” Kurt replied, kissing Blaine. His breath tasted like coffee, and Blaine took a moment to really taste him, making the kiss last longer than it should. When he finally pulled away, they were both out of breath.

“Stupid work,” Kurt grumbled, stomping to the coffee pot and refilling his mug.

“Sorry,” Blaine said, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn't resist.”

“Go get our boy in the bath,” Kurt replied sourly, pointing toward the hallway. “I have work to do.”

Blaine saluted and left, finding his boy sitting on the toilet in his bathroom, bouncing as he waited for Daddy to come in and start his bath water.

“You taked forever!” he complained when he saw Blaine.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I was talking to Papa,” Daddy said, leaning over and starting the water. “Arms up,” he commanded, coming over to his boy and tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

Shyly, Noah lifted his arms so Daddy could undress him. He was still a little bit awkward about being naked in front of Daddy and Papa. Even though they changed his diaper several times throughout the day, there was something different about baths that made Noah uncomfortable. Not that he enjoyed his diaper changes, but he was used to them now. He just pretended it wasn't happening, and everything was okay. With baths, it was different, because he usually liked to take them; he just didn't want Daddy and Papa to see. They were never mean or even made any comments about his being naked, though. They just helped him into the bath.

“Why's my baby thinking so hard?” Daddy asked, tapping at Noah's forehead after his shirt was off and his arms remained in the air. He leaned over to test the water temperature and pop in the stopper while he waited for an answer.

“Mmm, nuffin,” Noah replied. It wasn't 'portant anyway.

Daddy thought about requesting more information, but decided against it. Instead, he reached out and slid Noah's jammie pants down and off as he asked, “Are you looking forward to decorating for Christmas with Papa?”

“You not help?” Noah asked. He thought Daddy would at least join in sometime.

“I will when I can,” Daddy said, undoing the tabs on Noah's diaper and taking it off. He turned off the bath water before helping the boy climb in. Then, he sat back on his heels and said, “You and Papa will get to do some decorating without me, though, because I have work to do.”

Noah shrugged. He didn't know if it would be fun; he'd never done it before.

Blaine handed Noah his bath crayons from beneath the sink as well as two boats and two sharks. He let the boy play for a while without saying much. He was afraid they were pushing him too hard with the holiday stuff. Even though Noah wasn't acting like it was too much, he had been awfully snuggly when he woke that morning, and Daddy wanted to be sure that they took everything nice and slow.

“Daddy?” Noah asked after a little bit. He'd drawn a few pictures of boats and fish, but he wanted to ask daddy something 'portant, so he put his toys down to look the other man in the face.

“What's up, sweetheart?” Daddy asked.

“You an' Papa yike Cwis'mas?”

“Yeah...” Blaine answered, unsure where this was going.

“Wha' if don't?” Noah wanted to know. He had been wondering about that all morning since they kept asking him questions about it.

“Why wouldn't you like it?” Daddy wanted to know, picking up the cup to start washing his hair. “Head back and eyes closed,” he said gently.

Noah shrugged as he obeyed. “I dunno. I just never did Cwis'mas afore. What if I don't yike it?”

Blaine thought for a moment before he answered. “Well, you know that you can always come to Papa and I about anything, right?” he asked, pouring a few cups of water over Noah's hair to wet it down.

“Uh huh.”

“So, if you don't like what we're doing for Christmas, all you have to do is tell one of us. We can talk about it and either help you figure out why you don't like it or stop doing whatever it is you don't like.” He squeezed the extra water out of Noah's hair as he continued. “Papa and I just want you to have a happy Christmas, okay? We don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Noah opened his eyes and looked at Daddy. “'m jus' scared,” he admitted quietly, looking away from Daddy quickly. “You and Papa yike Cwis'mas, and I never had a Cwis'mas. I dunno what to do.”

Daddy hooked two fingers under Noah's chin, turning his face so they were making eye contact again. “You don't have to worry about upsetting Papa or me,” he said gently. “We're not going to be mad at you if you don't like something we do. You won't be in trouble. We'll celebrate however makes you comfortable. Do you understand that?”

Nodding, Noah said, “I unnerstan', Daddy.”

“That's my good boy,” Blaine said, leaning in to give Noah's cheek a kiss. “You know Papa and I love you, right?”

“Yove you, too,” Noah replied with a gentle smile. 

“Good. Now, let's shampoo you up!”

The rest of the bath went smoothly. Noah played a bit more with his boats and sharks after his hair was clean, and Daddy had soaped him up with the washcloth. He told Daddy a story about how his sharks were eating his boats because they thought boats looked like yummy cupcakes, and he ended up with a bunch of Daddy nibbles all his cheeks because Daddy thought that his baby looked like a yummy cupcake. By the time the plug got pulled on the quickly chilling bath water, Noah had forgotten about his fear of Christmas. He scampered to the bedroom as soon as Daddy released him from his toweling off.

“Hey! Get back here, naked boy!” Daddy called to him, chasing him into his room.

Noah giggled and collapsed on his bed, bouncing a little. He watched Daddy as he collected a diaper and diaper cream before coming over to the bed to get him into a diaper. 

Daddy tickled his tummy a bit as he set down the stuff he'd brought over. “I thought you were running away,” he smiled.

“Nuh uh,” Noah said, smiling back at Daddy. “Jus' comin' in here!”

“That's a good boy,” Daddy replied. “Legs up!” It didn't take them too long to get Noah into a clean diaper and some fresh clothes for the day. Daddy dressed him in a simple t-shirt and overalls. He knew Noah was likely to be pretty active helping out Papa with the decorating, and Blaine didn't want him complaining that he was too hot. “Ready to go find Papa?” Daddy asked after they pulled on Noah's final sock.

“Papa!” Noah called, sliding down from the bed. “Where iiiiiiis you?”

Daddy smiled, grabbing Noah's hand. “Come on.”

They walked into the living room to find Papa on the couch, three boxes stacked next to him and a Christmas tree box in the corner. Papa turned, a big smile on his face. “There are my boys,” he greeted, getting up to come take Noah's hand from Daddy and give Daddy a smooch. “Did you have a nice bath?” he asked.

At the sight of the boxes, the good mood that Noah had been in vanished. Not that he wasn't excited to look at Christmas decorations with Papa, but there were lots of boxes there which probably meant there would be a lot of stuff to go through. He was feeling nervous again that Daddy and Papa were going to be mad at him for not picking out enough stuff, and he clung tightly to Daddy's shirt. “Stay?” he begged, looking up at Daddy with watery eyes.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” Daddy asked, pulling his boy close.

“Want you stay!” Noah begged. “P'ease.”

“I have to go and do some work now,” Daddy soothed, rubbing his back.

“No!” This time it was a shout. “No! Stay!”

Kurt gave Blaine a questioning look. “What happened?” he mouthed, concerned.

Blaine shrugged. “Nothing,” he mouthed back. He was genuinely confused. Noah had been a jovial boy just a few minutes before.

Noah clung to Daddy tightly. If he held on tight enough, Daddy couldn't go into the office without him. He didn't want to stay with Papa. He didn't want to look at decorations. He just wanted Daddy to stay and hold him and maybe read a story while they rocked so he didn't have to feel like they were going to be mad at him for not knowing Christmas.

“Sweetie, can you tell us what the problem is?” Papa asked, coming over to lay a comforting hand on Noah's back.

The angry book shook him off, turning to screech, “No! Don' touch me!”

Kurt backed off, looking at Blaine. 

“Noah. Noah, I need you to look at me please,” Daddy commanded, voice gentle but firm. When the boy looked up at his face, he said, “I know you're upset, and that's okay. You can't yell at Papa, though. We still have to use our nice words, even when we're mad.”

Noah didn't say anything to that. Instead, he just cried harder, burying his face in Daddy's shirt as he sobbed out his fear and frustration.

Daddy looked helplessly at Papa. Neither of them knew what to do, and it was a moment where they again wondered if they'd chosen to do the right thing with Noah. Maybe bringing him home and giving him a second chance at being little was the wrong choice. Maybe they weren't ready. Maybe they were doing more harm than good. After a few moments of helpless silence, Blaine took a deep breath. No matter how he was feeling, he couldn't leave his upset little to cry things out. He needed to man up and be Daddy. So, he bent down to whisper in Noah's ear, “Papa's going to take you back to your room. You're gonna rock for a little while until you feel better. Okay?” As he spoke, Daddy reached around behind him and began to unhook the little fingers that were holding tightly to his shirt.

This made Noah more upset, and he cried, “No! No! Daddy stay! Daddy stay!”

Kurt came up behind the hysterical boy and wrapped his arms around his chest, pulling his arms toward him as Daddy slowly loosened Noah's grip on him little by little. When Noah's hands were finally free from Daddy's shirt, Kurt pulled his arms against his chest, bodily holding him close while Daddy retreated toward their office. “I love you, Noah,” Daddy said as he walked away. 

Noah continued to scream at Kurt, telling him not to touch him and repeating, “No! No! No!” over and over again. He kicked and twisted in Kurt's grasp, finally managing to break one arm free long enough to get in a few good wacks on Kurt's arm before Papa got his arm back in his grasp.

It was slow going, but Papa was able to slowly move the both of them into Noah's room. Noah was stronger than him, but in the midst of a tantrum, he was wild and uncoordinated, making it a little bit easier for Papa to slowly move them the few steps down the hallway and into Noah's room. He got them over to the rocking love seat with Noah's back to his chest. Kurt sat with his back against the arm rest, one foot on the floor, and positioned Noah in front of him so that he was almost laying down. 

The little boy kicked and yelled for several more minutes, his tears mixing with the snot running out of his nose. He didn't notice when Papa started to sing, setting the chair in motion, but eventually, he began to calm down. His voice was horse and his body ached from the thrashing he had been doing. When his yelling became choked sobs, he began to hear Papa's voice filtering through his cries. 

“You are my sunshine/my only sunshine/you make me happy/when skies are gray/you'll never know, dear/how much I love you/please don't take my sunshine away.” Papa sang the same words, the same melody over and over again as he rocked, his grip on Noah's arms loosening as he felt the boy begin to relax. Finally, Noah's sobs quieted into sniffles, and Papa sang the verse a few more times before asking, “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

Noah nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“That was a lot of big feelings, wasn't it?” Kurt asked gently. He was careful to keep his voice low and soft, soothing, so Noah would feel more at ease. “Do you think you could tell Papa what had you so upset?”

The little boy shook his head. He didn't think he'd ever be able to talk again; his throat hurt too much.

“Would you like a drink?” Papa asked. “I bet it's hard to talk after all that crying.”

Noah nodded, turning toward Papa enough to raise his arms in a silent ask to be carried.

Papa obliged with no comment, walking to the kitchen and filling up Noah's sippy cup with water. Papa let him drink for a long time, even refilling his cup once before he began to ask questions again. He continued swaying Noah as he did. “Now do you think you can tell me why you were so upset?”

“Wanted Daddy,” Noah whispered. He felt like he was losing his voice.

“I know you wanted Daddy, and he was very sorry that he had to get some work done. Why didn't you want to come into the living room with me?”

“Scared.” Noah was ashamed to admit it, but the thought of going in there with those boxes had seemed overwhelming. Now, it seemed like it could be fun in Papa wasn't mad. Which he might be. Noah had hit, and that was naughty.

“What were you scared of, sweetheart?” Papa asked, kissing his temple.

“Cwis'mas...”

Kurt didn't understand at first. His boy was scared of Christmas? “What do you mean?” he asked. He knew Noah might not be able to explain, but anything he could give him would be better than nothing.

Noah shook his head sadly. Papa was going to be even madder when Noah told him why he was scared of Christmas. His lip trembled; he didn't want to be in trouble.

“Don't cry, my Noah,” Kurt said, rubbing his baby's back. “I'm not going to be upset with you. I want to know so I can help.”

Taking a deep breath, Noah swallowed hard. He wanted to believe Papa, but it was hard. Slowly, he admitted, “Too much Christmas.”

Then, all the pieces clicked into place for Kurt. They'd been moving too fast, pushing too hard, just like they'd talked about not doing. Kurt stopped swaying for a moment to think, trying to figure out what would be the best way to help his boy.

Noah took this as a sign that Papa was mad, however, and the tears came flooding back once again. “Sorry!” he said over and over. “Sorry! Sorry! I do it. I do it!” He was desperate for Papa not to be mad at him. He didn't want anyone to be mad.

“Noah, sweetheart, Papa's not mad,” Kurt reassured, starting the swaying again. “I promise Papa's not mad. He was just thinking about the best way to help you. May I have your cup, please?” he asked, holding out a hand, never stopping the swaying.

Giving him the cup, Noah allowed himself to suck his thumb. He didn't like to do that in front of Daddy and Papa, but he needed it right then. He wished he had Super Rex. The dino always knew how to make him feel better.

Papa refilled his cup, handing it back to Noah as he said, “I think we should go back to your room and rock. What do you think? Would you like to rock?” He kissed Noah's forehead.

“Thupa Res?” Noah asked around his thumb.

“Yeah. We'll get Super Rex, too. He likes to rock.” Kurt reassured, slowly making their way back to Noah's room, never stopping the swaying as they walked.

When they made it to Noah's room, Papa stopped at his bed to grab Super Rex before going back to the love seat. They sat in much the same way that they had during Noah's tantrum, only this time the boy was calm, snuggled up against Papa's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He liked that. Daddy and Papa both had very nice heartbeats, the kind that made Noah feel safe and loved when he felt like his world was falling apart. So, he sat there, listening to the deep thump thump-thump of Papa's heart, sucking his thumb, and rubbing Super Rex's ear against his cheek. Neither one of them spoke for a long time, until Noah said, “Papa?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” Papa asked, beginning to play with Noah's hair.

“'m sorry I hitted you,” Noah said quietly.

“Thank you for apologizing,” Papa said. “We'll talk about that in a few minutes. But first, I want to talk about something else.” He paused for a moment, trying to come up with a good way to say it. Finally, he said, “Noah, do you know that you can tell Papa and Daddy anything?”

This was something they told him a lot, and even though Noah didn't all the way believe him, he nodded against Papa's chest. “Uh huh.”

“Do you know that Daddy and Papa are never going to be upset if you're scared?”

Noah thought for a minute, trying to remember if they'd ever been mad about that before. After a minute, he nodded again.

“Do you know that Daddy and Papa love you very much?” 

This one Noah knew the answer to, and he said right away, “Uh huh. An' I yove Daddy and Papa.”

“That's good,” Kurt replied, kissing his hair. “So, I want you to know that Daddy and Papa are sorry that you got scared. We should have taken things slow with you; we know Christmas is new for you, but we got too excited. We didn't think so well.”

“Not 'posed to ap-ap-- say sorry,” Noah informed, looking up at Papa's face.

“What do you mean?” 

“Daddies and Papas are always always right. Not 'posed to be sorry. Jus' me.”

“No, sweetheart. Daddies and Papas are supposed to be sorry when they do something wrong. Everyone apologizes when they mess up; then, they're forgiven, and we all move on. Do you think you can forgive Daddy and me for going too fast?”

Noah wasn't sure he understood why Daddies and Papas apologized when they were the big people and big people could get mad about whatever they wanted to. But, Noah decided to agree anyway. “I f'give you, Papa. An' Daddy, too.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

They sat together in silence for a bit longer before Noah asked again, “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“Wha' you has in the boxes?”

“The ones in the living room?”

Noah nodded.

“Christmas decorations,” Kurt said. “I'm going to put them away, though, until you're ready to look at them.”

“I see them now?” Noah wanted to know. He felt like that might be fun.

“Do you think you're ready to?” Papa asked, wanting to be sure.

Noah nodded. Papa hadn't been mad, so maybe it would be okay.

“Well, sweetheart, I think there's something we need to talk about first before we do that.”

The little boy swallowed hard and grabbed his sippy cup from where he'd been cradling it in his lap. Papa was mad, and he was gonna be in big, big trouble. 

“You know that we're not allowed to hit,” Papa began, keeping his voice very gentle.

“Uh huh.”

“What should we do if we are upset about something?”

“Use words,” Noah replied sadly.

“That's right. Good boy,” Kurt praised. “I know that when we were in the living room, you were having a lot of big feelings. But that doesn't mean we hit people. We still have to use our words when we need something, right?”

Noah nodded. 

“So, I think that before we get out Christmas decorations, you need to sit down and write a few lines for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Noah sniffled. Lines weren't so bad. But, maybe Papa was planning something else. “Only lines?” he asked, glancing at Papa. His face didn't look mad.

“Only lines,” Papa confirmed. “I think 25.”

“Kay, Papa,” Noah agreed, standing up. “We go now?”

“Go sit down at the kitchen table, please,” Papa instructed. “I'll go get your notebook.”

Sadly, Noah walked to the table and waited for Papa to bring him his notebook and a pen. Writing lines wasn't the worst punishment he'd ever received, but it still wasn't fun. He thought about what he'd done as he waited. He knew it had been mean to hit Papa even when he did it. He knew it, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it. He didn't feel like he could tell them how he felt, and he'd lashed out with violence. He sniffled a bit more as Papa walked into the room. He'd been bad. “Sorry I was bad, Papa,” he whispered as Kurt sat down next to him and opened the notebook to a clean page.

“You're not bad, sweetheart,” Kurt reassured. “Sometimes, the choices you make aren't so good, but you are never ever bad. Daddy and I love you.”

“Who do I love?” Daddy asked, emerging from the hallway. He'd gotten through most of the work he needed to do. He had a bit more that he should have probably finished, but he couldn't stand the thought of being away from Noah and Kurt for any longer. If they're baby took a nap today, he'd finish it then.

“Our Noah,” Kurt said, turning to glance at Blaine. “He said he was sorry for being bad, and I was just reminding him that he's never bad. He just doesn't always make good choices.”

“That's true,” Daddy said, coming to sit on the other side of Noah. “Just because we don't always like your choices doesn't mean that we stop loving you.” He pulled the boy into a tight squeeze.

“I hitted Papa,” Noah reminded, snuggling into Daddy's side for a moment.

“That was a bad choice, but that doesn't mean you are bad,” Kurt explained, writing something down at the top of the notebook. Then, he slid it over in front of Noah. “Read that to me, please,” he said gently.

“'I am not bad; Daddy and Papa always love me.'” Noah read slowly from the sheet. Then, he looked at Papa, confused. “I thought I was in twouble for hittin' you?”

“You are,” Papa said. “But, I think you know not to hit other people, so I thought you should write down this reminder instead. How many times do I want you to write that?” he asked.

“Twenty-five?”

“Good boy,” Papa praised, leaning over to kiss his temple. “Use your best handwriting. Daddy and I will be back in just a minute.” Standing, he motioned for Blaine to follow him.

“Did he say why he got so upset?” Blaine asked when they were out of ear shot.

“Not in so many words,” Kurt explained, “but it's my fault. We pushed too hard with the Christmas stuff. He saw the boxes of decorations and freaked out. He said he was scared of Christmas, but I think we just moved too fast. That's why he's only writing 25 lines. I couldn't bear the thought of spanking him or something when he was clearly just freaked out and overstimulated by everything.” His voice was nearing hysteria as he finished speaking.

“Hey,” Blaine soothed, reaching out to rub up and down Kurt's arms. “Don't beat yourself up about it. He seemed fine. We didn't know. We're still learning, Kurt, just like he is. He's learning to trust us, and we're learning to do what's best for him.”

Kurt nodded. “I know. I just...I don't want to hurt him more. I don't want him to be terrified that we're going to be mad because he doesn't like something that we're doing. I just want him to be able to talk to us, to feel like he can trust us with what he's feeling.”

“I know. We'll get there. It's just going to take some time. Noah's been burned so many times by so many different people. His parents weren't around, he didn't have great friends in high school other than Finn, and he lost him. All his girlfriends have treated him like crap.” Blaine let out a long breath. “We just have to take it slow. He'll come around to us. He's already doing so much better than when we first brought him home.”

“You're right. I know you're right,” Kurt agreed, leaning heavily into Blaine.

The shorter boy wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Neither one of them spoke for several minutes. They just needed support from each other.

Noah sat at the table, dutifully writing his lines. He'd watched Daddy and Papa leave the room, worried that they were going to talk about getting rid of him. Papa said they weren't mad, and they both said that they loved him. They said that constantly, in fact. But, there was still a little, nagging voice at the back of Noah's head that told him none of this could be real. There was no way that those two men who had no obligation to love him weren't just going to get tired one day. They were going to get fed up with him never learning and constantly being a baby, and they were going to tell him to leave. Noah had been through it all before. No one ever meant it when they said they loved him. They just said it to make him stay when they needed him. When they were done, they booted him out. Daddy and Papa were going to do that, too, Noah knew. It was only a matter of time.

Dutifully, he had picked up the pen and began to write his assigned lines. He could hear Daddy and Papa talking in the living room, the rise and fall of their voices soothing him. It helped to know they were nearby, even if they were talking about how to get rid of him. He was eight sentences in when they walked back into the room.

“How's it going, sweetheart?” Papa asked, sitting back down in the chair he'd abandoned a little bit ago. 

“Okay,” Noah admitted quietly, looking at his paper. “Sorry I was naughty,” he said, careful to phrase it correctly this time.

“You're forgiven, Noah,” Daddy reassured, sitting down next to him, too. “Just finish your lines so we can do something more fun.”

“Yes, sir,” Noah replied quietly, turning his attention back to the paper. A few moments later, he felt a warm hand on his back and another on his knee. He couldn't keep the tiny grin off of his face. Daddy and Papa were sitting with him while he wrote, and for some reason he couldn't identify, that made him feel so much better. 

About half an hour later, Noah finished his last word, dropping the pen down onto the notebook paper. “All done?” he asked, looking at Papa to make sure he'd done everything he was supposed to do.

“All done. Thank you for being such a good boy about writing your lines.” Papa kissed his cheek, sliding the notebook away from him and closing it.

“Noah,” Daddy said, turning the boy so they were making eye contact, “are you sure you want to decorate for Christmas today? If you're feeling too nervous or scared, we don't have to. Papa and I want you to be comfortable.”

Noah considered this for a moment. Before writing lines, he had been curious about what was in the boxes. Did he still feel that way? After a second, he nodded. “'m not so scared now.”

“How would you feel about just putting up the tree today?” Daddy asked. “You said Finn's mommy used to have one, so that might make you feel better. What do you think?”

“I don' know how,” Noah said sadly, looking down at his hands.

“Papa and I will show you,” Daddy promised. “If that sounds like fun, we can go do that now. If not, Papa can put away the Christmas stuff for today, and we can try again tomorrow.”

“I wan' to,” Noah insisted, sliding off of his seat and walking determinedly toward the living room. He did want to. It was important to him that he make Daddy and Papa happy, and he was kind of curious about everything.

Daddy and Papa trailed Noah into the living room, giving him some space to take in everything. After a minute, Noah walked over to the box in the corner of the room, turning to look at them expectantly.

Kurt was the first to move. “So, first we have to take the tree out of the box. Do you think you can help me with that?” he asked. He set the box down on its bottom and opened the flap. He handed a piece to Noah. “That's the top. Can you set it on the floor over there?” He pointed to the carpet in front of the TV.

Noah nodded. “'m a good helper,” he reminded Papa as he carried the top to the designated area. “Why its got yights awready?” he asked, gently laying it on the floor.

“Our tree is pre-lit,” Daddy explained, coming over to help Papa pull the next piece out of the box. “That means that there are lights already on it. All we have to do is plug it in once we have it all put together. Here.” He handed his side of the middle piece to Noah. “You help Papa hold this for a minute while I get the bottom set up.”

Noah watched with wide eyes as Daddy pulled the biggest part of the tree out of the box. A few of the needles fell off as he maneuvered the tree into place and popped off the cap.

“Now we get to put in the middle,” Papa said, guiding Noah toward the tree. They set the middle part in, and Daddy twisted it until it clicked into place. “Noah, can you get the top again and bring it to me? I have to put it on the tree because Daddy's too short.”

“Hey!” Daddy protested, pretending to be offended. “I'm not short!”

“Even I is taller den you, Daddy!” Noah giggled, retrieving the top of the tree. He handed it to Papa, watching carefully as he put it in place. 

“There!” Papa said, turning to grin at his two boys. “How does it look, sweetheart?”

Noah crinkled up his nose. “Is squishy,” he said, glaring at some of the branches that were looking a little bit crushed.

“That's why we have to fluff it!” Daddy told him. “Like this.” Carefully, he guided Noah toward the tree and reached around him, showing him how to bend the branches to make the tree look fuller. “Do you think you can help Papa and I do that?” he asked. “Sometimes it takes us a long time all by ourselves.”

“'m a good helper!” Noah said again, happily setting to work on the next branch.

After a while, the tree looked beautiful. All the branches had been fluffed, and the tree was perfect, round and pointy in all the right spots. “Are you ready to see it with the lights on?” Papa asked, grabbing the end of the cord.

The little boy nodded, standing back so he could see the whole tree at once.

Daddy quickly flipped off the light switch just as Papa plugged the tree in, and the room was lit with the soft glow of white light.

“Woah,” Noah breathed, taking it in. The tree looked really pretty in the dark; he didn't think he'd ever seen one not in the light before.

“You can make it change color,” Kurt explained. “Come here, and I'll show you.” When Noah approached him, he showed him a remote that was attached to the cord. “You use this,” Papa explained. “All you have to do is press the button, and the tree changes color. Try it.” He handed the remote to Noah.

Carefully, he pushed the button and gasped as all the lights on the tree became different colors. There was red, blue, green, purple, and yellow. “Wow!” he said quietly.

“Do it again,” Daddy prompted, grinning.

Noah pressed the button again, and this time, the whole tree was red. Again, and the tree was blue. Another press turned it green. The tree also had a setting for purple and yellow. Noah pressed the button again, and it went back to white. “That's so cool!” he exclaimed hopping up and down with delight.

“I'm glad you like it,” Daddy smiled, turning the lights back on. Even in the light, the tree was still pretty. “Do you want to put some ornaments on it?” he asked, stepping toward the boxes stacked beside the couch. When the little boy hesitated, Daddy reminded, “It's okay to say no, Noah. We won't be mad.”

“Can show me?” Noah wanted to know. “I dunno how.”

“That's the best part,” Papa grinned, leading the way over to the boxes stacked beside the couch. He sifted through them 'til he found the one with the ornaments in it. “You don't have to know about hanging ornaments, because this is something you do however you want.” He pulled one out of the box and handed it to Noah. It was a little train with a cute face that said, The Little Engine That Could. Papa gave him an encouraging smile. “You can hang that on whichever branch you want.”

“Is okay?” Noah asked, hesitating.

“I promise,” Papa reassured.

“Hang that one up,” Daddy instructed gently. “If you don't feel like doing any more afterward, you don't have to.”

Carefully, Noah approached the tree and considered his options. Finally, he selected a sturdy branch in the middle of the tree. He slipped the small loop of string over the limb and stood back, judging his decision. After a few moments, a smile came over his face. “I yike it,” he said softly.

“It looks perfect, sweetheart,” Papa complimented. “Would you like another?” This time, he held out an ornament with a little dog on it.

Noah nodded, feeling much more confident now, and took the ornament from Papa, selecting a new branch.

They did this over and over again, Noah hanging an ornament and standing back to look before getting another. Papa and Daddy never pushed him, letting him take his time and praising his placement with each one. There were a few that he would take down and move, however, most of the time he was happy with his arrangement. It took some time, but eventually, Noah had hung several ornaments. All of them were ones that Daddy and Papa had collected when they were younger, specifically setting aside for when they had a little one of their own. And now they did.

“What do you think, Noah?” Papa asked when the little boy stood back to look at the placement of his last ornament.

Noah turned toward them with wide eyes. “Is good?” he asked hesitantly.

“I think it's perfect,” Daddy said. “Exactly the type of tree I wanted. Wouldn't you agree, Papa?”

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. “It's a perfect Christmas tree,” he agreed.

Noah smiled wide at the praise, “I fink is good,” he said smiling.

“Come here, precious boy,” Daddy beckoned.

The little boy ran over, falling into Daddy's hug. 

“What would you think,” Daddy began, kissing his boy on the cheek, “of having some lunch? Then, you could help me in my office for a little while, and for dinner we could have pizza and watch a movie.”

Noah's eyes went wide, and he pulled back, studying Daddy's face. “For weal?” he asked.

“For real,” Daddy confirmed, glancing at Papa who was smiling and nodding.

“Cwis'mas movie?” Noah wanted to know. “I never seed any a'fore.”

“We can watch a Christmas movie,” Daddy agreed, “if that's what you want to do.”

“Yeah!” Noah cheered. “Fank you!” He gave Daddy a big hug before running to Kurt and giving him the same treatment. Then, he ran off toward the kitchen, shouting, “Yunchtime! Yay!”

“What should we have?” Daddy called after him.

But Noah was too excited to listen.


	2. Gifts

The few weeks leading up to Christmas passed very quickly. The boys were careful not to take things too fast with Noah. They would give him choices of things he could do to help get ready for Christmas, but more often than not, Noah would have so many questions at bedtime that they would end up picking something to do the next day before it was time for lights out. 

The three of them ended up doing many things together. They baked several batches of Christmas cookies, much to Noah's delight. His favorite parts were picking out the cookie cutters and frosting the cookies. Daddy and Papa were convinced that Noah got more frosting in his mouth than he put on the cookies. They watched several Christmas movies. Noah quickly had favorites. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas were instant hits. Noah helped decorate the rest of the house, too, stringing up lights on their balcony, hanging wreathes, and putting out little figurines that Papa had collected. He was still very hesitant about decorating, constantly seeking approval for the job that he had done. But, with lots of love and praise, Daddy and Papa began to get the feeling that Noah was excited about Christmas.

Ten days before Christmas eve, after Noah had been tucked into bed, Kurt and Blaine sat on the couch. “What should we get Noah for Christmas?” Kurt mused. They'd waited to order gifts; they wanted to be sure that Noah was ready to celebrate Christmas before they made too big a deal about the holiday. 

“I don't want to overwhelm him,” Blaine said. “I think it would be nice to get him a few things, but we'll need to take opening very slowly. Give him time with each thing before he opens something else.”

“I'd like to get him an ornament of his very own,” Kurt said. “Maybe Cat in the Hat or something? He seems to really like that story.”

“He seems to really like stories,” Blaine observed. “I think we should get him a few books for Christmas.”

Kurt pulled out his phone and began making a list. “Ornament. Books. What else?”

“Maybe a board game?” Blaine suggested. “We don't have a lot of those, but Noah might like one. Something simple.”

“Candyland?” Kurt asked.

“Perfect!”

The boys talked back and forth for a while, discussing a few possibilities. They settled on more bath crayons and a pajama set with Super Rex on it to go along with Candyland, the books, and the ornament.

“I'd like to get him one big thing,” Kurt said.

“What about Santa Claus?” Blaine wanted to know. “Do we do Santa Claus gifts? Or a stocking?”

“I think we could,” Kurt decided. “We could put the bath crayons in his stocking and maybe a little bit of candy.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You want to give him candy?”

Kurt shrugged. “It's Christmas,” he pointed out. “I think a little bit would be okay.”

Nodding, Blaine said, “I agree. Santa could bring him Candyland and a book, too. That should do it.”

Kurt nodded. “That's what I was thinking.”

“So, what was your idea for the big thing?” Blaine asked.

“Well...”

Christmas Eve was a tough day for Noah. He wasn't naughty; he was just nervous. He spent much of his day wrapped around Daddy or Papa like a little koala bear, upset if he had to let them both out of his sight for any reason. He even made them nap with him, holding on tightly to both of their shirts as they fell asleep.

Daddy and Papa didn't really mind, however. It was easy to give their baby attention, and they'd known they would have to take things slow anyway. After his nap and a bit of a snack, Papa asked, “Noah? How would you like to do a craft with Daddy and me?”

Crafts were a new thing for Noah. He'd never been much of an artist, and his mother had never cared about the pictures or drawings he'd brought home for her when he was really young. But, Daddy and Papa loved everything he made. Some of his artwork hung on the refrigerator, the stuff Noah was really proud of. Other pictures were hung in Daddy and Papa's office, and still more was in a scrapbook that Papa had started to put together. They were careful to never throw any of Noah's artwork away, and the idea of doing crafts was starting to grow on him. So, he turned wide eyes to Papa. “You, too?” he asked, unsure. He was sitting in Daddy's lap, snuggled tightly against his chest.

“Me, too,” Papa assured. “And Daddy, too.”

Noah nodded slowly, sticking his thumb in his mouth. “Kay,” he nodded slowly. “I do.”

Kurt smiled. “Perfect! You stay here with Daddy, and I'll be right back.”

Noah watched Papa leave the room and was surprised at how quickly he came back, two Target bags in his hands. He leaned up a bit, interested to see what Papa would pull out of the bags.

“Do you want to help?” Daddy whispered in his ear. At Noah's nod, Daddy tried to put him down in his own chair, but Noah clung to him for dear life. “Daddy, too,” he insisted. 

“Okay. Daddy, too,” Blaine agreed, scooting over closer to Kurt so they could see what he was doing.

From the first bag, Kurt pulled out three bright red stockings with white tops. He smoothed each one out on the table. “There's one for each of us,” he told Noah, smiling at him. He was hoping that doing a craft together would help their boy relax. Despite there still being something else in that bag, Kurt set it aside and reached into the next bag. From that one, he pulled out glitter paint tubes in every color imaginable. 

Noah's eyes went wide. He pointed to the pens. “Wha' for?” he garbled around his thumb.

“We're going to write our names on our stockings,” Papa explained. “Daddy and I can help you. Do you want to watch me do mine?”

Nodding eagerly, Noah leaned forward just a bit to see what Papa was doing. He left his thumb in his mouth, however, and held on tightly to one of Daddy's hands with his free one.

“What color should I pick?” Papa asked, pushing the colorful tubes toward Noah.

Noah considered this for a moment. He removed his thumb. “Wha' you fav'rite?”

“I like blue,” Papa replied.

“How 'bou' dis one?” Noah asked, holding up a light blue tube. 

“Perfect,” Papa exclaimed, taking the tube from Noah. “Thank you, my Noah.” He smiled at the boy and was rewarded with a shy grin from Noah. “Now, how do I spell my name?”

Noah looked at Papa carefully, waiting to see what he would say.

“Does his name start with a 'D'?” Daddy wanted to know, leaning forward to talk into Noah's ear.

Noah shook his head, giggling a little. Daddy's breath tickled.

“Does his name start with an 'N'?” Daddy asked next.

Again, Noah shook his head. “'P!'” he proclaimed. “Star' wif 'p,' Papa!”

“That's right!” Kurt exclaimed. He opened the pen and spelled out 'Papa' in big letters across the top of his stocking. Then, he put the lid back on the pen and pushed his stocking across the table. “There! Now, all we have to do is wait for it to try. Do you want to do yours next, Noah?”

The little boy shook his head. “Daddy do,” he insisted.

“Will you come sit with me, then?” Papa asked, holding his arms out. “Daddy will need both hands for spelling his name.”

Noah willingly slid into Papa's lap, turning so he could watch Daddy spell out his name.

“What color should I pick, my Noah?” Daddy asked, looking at all of the tubes.

“Wha' you fav'rite?” Noah asked again.

“Purple.”

Silently, Noah passed him the purple tube, his thumb creeping back up to his mouth. He watched carefully as Daddy wrote 'Daddy' in big letters on his stocking. His handwriting was loopier than Papa's, but Noah decided that he liked them both.

When Daddy was done, he put the lid back on his tube and pushed his stocking over by Papa's. “Your turn, Noah,” Daddy said, smiling. “What color are you going to write with?”

Noah looked over the tubes carefully. Papa really had gotten every color. Finally, he picked up one that was the color of grass. “Gween,” he announced. “Is yike Thupa Wex!”

“I like green,” Papa responded, pulling the last stocking over in front of them. “Can you write your name?”

Shaking his head, Noah turned to Papa. “You do,” he said, trying to hand Papa the green tube.

“Will you try?” Papa asked. He didn't want to push Noah, but he really wanted him to feel like he could make crafts, too.

“Uh uh,” Noah said sadly, hanging his head. “'m not so good at it.”

“How about this,” Daddy suggested, leaning in closer. “How about if you hold the pen, and Papa can put his hand over yours? Like this,” he demonstrated what he meant with Noah's left hand. “Then, he can help you write.”

Noah thought for a second. “Papa do?” he asked, turning toward the man to make sure this was okay.

“I can help,” Papa replied. “Take the lid off, then I'll help.”

Slowly but surely, the two of them spelled out Noah's name. The writing was a little bit shaky, but they didn't make any big blunders, and when Noah sat back, a smile crept onto his face. “Is done!” he said excitedly, pointing at his stocking. “Is done!” He looked between Daddy and Papa, delighted.

“Good job, sweetheart!” Daddy praised. “You and Papa did a great job!”

“While we wait for our stockings to dry,” Papa said, “there's one more thing I need you to help me with, Noah.”

The boy cocked his head. “What?”

“Come with me, and I'll show you.” Papa tried to gently push the boy off of his lap and onto his feet, but Noah wasn't having that. 

“Carry!” he insisted.

“Can you carry that bag then, Daddy?” Papa asked, pointing to the one he'd taken the stockings from.

Daddy nodded and followed Papa and Noah into the living room. 

Papa sat down on the couch with Noah in his lap and pointed to the electric fireplace sitting in the corner. “We are going to decorate the fireplace with our stockings,” he explained, reaching for the bag from Blaine. “That way, when Santa comes tonight, he can fill them with cool things.” They had agreed to bring Santa up as if it was expected he would come. If Noah didn't like it, they would know, and they would arrange to “call Santa” and ask him not to come for a visit.

Noah turned toward Papa, his expression one of awe. “Santa coming?” he asked. “For weal? I has never had Santa come!”

“Well, he's coming tonight,” Daddy said. “He told me so.”

“Santa call you?” Noah asked, eyes wide.

“He sure did,” Daddy agreed. “He said he's coming to bring his favorite Noah some really cool presents.”

“So,” Papa went on, “we need some way to hang up our stockings.” He reached into the bag and produced a silver stocking hook with a big letter 'N' on it. “What do you think?” he asked, showing it to Noah.

“Is for me?” 

“Well, what letter's on it?”

Noah traced the cool metal with his index finger. “'N' for Noah!” he said happily when he reached the end.

“That's right!” Papa said. “You can pick where it sits on fireplace. Okay?” He helped Noah stand up and patted him gently toward the fireplace. When he looked back at them, about to protest going alone, Kurt said, “Daddy and I will be right here, watching. I promise.”

Noah nodded reluctantly and padded toward the fireplace. He set the hook down in the middle of the fireplace and stepped back. “Is good?” he asked the men on the couch.

“It looks perfect,” Papa smiled at him. “Can you put mine and Daddy's up, too?” He pulled a hook with a letter 'P' out of the bag followed by one with a 'D'.

Noah came back and took the heavy hooks from Papa. He went back to the fireplace and set Papa's hook to the left of his, Daddy's to the right. He glanced back at them again for approval.

“Good job, Noah,” Daddy praised. “Come give me a hug.”

Noah gladly raced back to Daddy, happy to be enveloped in a warm hug.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Daddy asked. “Papa needs to wrap some presents.”

“Snowman?”

“You want to watch Frosty? We just watched that a few nights ago,” Daddy chuckled, tickling Noah's sides lightly.

“Snowman!” Noah repeated, jumping up and running to the DVD player. He grabbed the DVD and brought it back to Daddy. “Daddy do!” he demanded.

“What do you say?” Papa reminded, walking by his boys on his way to the master bedroom. He paused to kiss Noah's head and Daddy's cheek.

“Daddy do, p'ease!”

“Alright,” Daddy agreed, rising to put the DVD into the player. He felt Noah grab onto his belt loop, following him to the TV. “How would you like some hot chocolate for our movie?” Daddy asked after putting the disc in. He knew he needed to give Kurt as much time as he could to wrap gifts. They hadn't purchased a ton of presents, but he would need more than 20 minutes.

“Wif milk?” Noah asked. He'd never liked hot chocolate much until that winter when Papa had introduced him to the beverage made with milk.

“Of course!” Daddy teased, booping Noah's nose. “Is there any other kind?”

Noah wrinkled his nose. “Papa sayed water is gross!”

“He's right,” Daddy whispered. “Come on!”

Noah had a very happy evening. He drank hot chocolate and watched Frosty the Snowman with Daddy. He colored Christmas pictures while Daddy and Papa worked on dinner, and he ate a very delicious feast of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and rolls. Daddy and Papa didn't even make him eat the green beans, because it was Christmas. Noah decided that this holiday was his favorite. 

After dinner, Daddy and Papa took their little koala bear to the living room. “Would you like to open a present before your bath?” Papa asked.

Noah nodded shyly. He wasn't used to getting presents.

Daddy went to the tree and grabbed a large, flat box. He brought it back to the couch and handed it to Noah. “Open it up, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

Slowly, Noah pulled open the blue ribbon and carefully removed the reindeer wrapping paper. Then, he pulled up the small pieces of scotch tape holding the box closed and move the flaps aside. He sighed when he saw the tissue paper in the box. “Too much,” he complained, pretending to be grumpy as he pulled the paper out. Then, he gasped. “Thupa Wex,” he whispered, pointing at the box. “Jammies with Thupa Wex!”

“Do you like them?” Papa asked from his left.

In response, Noah wrapped Papa in a tight hug. “Fank you!” he said. “I wear them tonight?”

“You sure can,” Papa agreed. “After your bath. I washed them already.”

“Come on,” Daddy offered, standing up and holding out his hand. “Bring your jammies, and we'll go take your bath.”

Noah followed along happily behind Daddy.

“Hurry back,” Papa called to them as they headed to Noah's bathroom. “I'll be lonely without you!”

“I be fast, Papa,” Noah promised. He was beginning to really enjoy baths. He hadn't liked them at first. He'd been nervous and shy about Daddy and Papa seeing him naked. However, he was finding them much more relaxing. Daddy and Papa had given him some really cool toys to play with in the bath, and he liked to have wars with his boats and sharks. Plus, drawing on the walls was kinda fun.

As Daddy turned on the water and helped Noah out of his clothes, Noah asked, “Daddy?”

“Noah?” Daddy replied.

“Wha' we do afta baf time?”

“We're going to open more presents,” Daddy replied. He tested the water with his hand, then gently helped Noah into the tub. “Would you like some more presents?”

Noah thought about that. “I fink so. But, Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I didn't get you an' Papa nuffing.”

“That's okay. You colored us some pretty pictures tonight. Those are our presents.” Daddy smiled fondly at Noah.

“Okay,” the boy replied, not sure how he felt about that. He played with his boats for a few minutes before asking, “Daddy?”

“Yes, Noah?” Daddy asked patiently. Sometimes, Noah's questions were hard.

“Santa come tonight?”

“After you're sleeping, Santa will come tonight. Tilt your head back,” Daddy said.

“He come for you?”

“Uh huh,” Daddy said. He knew Kurt had purchased them some stocking stuffers from Santa, too.

“An' Papa?”

“Do you think Papa's been good enough?” Daddy teased.

“Papa always good,” Noah defended. “Papa is nice!”

“Papa is very nice,” Daddy agreed. “And Santa will come for him, too.”

Noah nodded, happy to let Daddy wash his hair. His fingers were like magic as they massaged his scalp.

“Are you ready to get out?” Daddy asked when Noah's hair was clean.

“Uh huh! Thupa Wex!”

Daddy chuckled, pulling the plug and wrapping Noah in a towel before helping him dry off. He was quick to dry the boy off before Noah broke away, racing toward the bedroom where he'd left his new pajamas.

“Naked boy!” Daddy called, chasing after him.

Noah laughed. “Thupa Wex!” He climbed onto his bed and began to jump. “Thupa Wex! Thupa Wex!”

Daddy caught up to him and grabbed his arm, giving his bare bottom a smack as he pulled him to the floor. “You know we don't jump on the bed,” Daddy admonished. The swat hadn't been hard, but it hadn't been gentle either.

“Ow!” Noah hollered, rubbing the spot. He gave Daddy a glare.

“Come here,” Daddy said, ignoring him. “Let's put your night diaper on. Then, we'll get into those new jammies.

Noah willingly let Daddy put his diaper on and get him into his Super Rex jammies before he grabbed his dinosaur off of his bed and raced back to Papa who was still sitting in the living room. “You miss me, Papa?” he asked as he hopped onto the couch next to him.

“Of course I did!” Papa agreed, kissing this boy's hair. “Did you have a good bath?”

“Uh huh. But Daddy smacked my bottom.”

“Someone decided to jump on the bed,” Daddy supplied, emerging from the hallway.

Papa nodded. “Oh. I see. Are you ready to open some more presents?”

“Presents!” Noah agreed. He was really excited now that he'd opened one, and he bounced on his seat on the couch, the smack forgotten.

Papa went over to the tree and stacked up all the small presents on top of one that was quite large. He pushed the whole pile toward the couch, stopping in front of Noah. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “These are all for you.”

Noah looked at the big pile of presents. “All of them?” he asked.

“Yes, Noah,” Daddy said. “Want me to pick one for you to open first?”

Noah nodded.

Daddy handed him a small rectangular box. “Here you go.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Noah ripped of the paper. “Cat 'n Hat!” he exclaimed, looking at the picture of the ornament. 

“Do you like it?” Papa asked.

With a nod, Noah asked, “Can put on da twee?”

“Sure, sweetheart. You keep opening, and I'll find some ribbon,” Papa said.

So, Noah opened the rest of the small presents. Inside, he found several books that he'd been looking for. There were a few Dr. Seuss titles, like Yurtle the Turtle and Oh, The Places You'll Go. There was also Clifford the Big Red Dog, two Ninja Turtle stories, and a big book called 5-Minute Dog Stories. “Fank you!” he said, hugging Daddy and Papa. “I yike stories!”

“We'll have to have a book reading party tomorrow,” Daddy said.

Noah smiled. That sounded wonderful.

“Are you ready for the big one?” Papa asked. “Or do you want to hang up your ornament first?”

“Cat,” Noah decided, reaching for the ornament. He padded to the tree and gently hung the ornament next to the first one he'd ever put on the tree, The Little Engine That Could.

“Perfect,” Papa said. “Come open your last present.” He held out his arms to Noah. He knew his boy might need a little bit extra loving when he opened this gift.

Noah settled onto Papa's lap, accepting the top of the big box from Daddy. Quietly, he tore off the paper, revealing a plain brown box. He looked at Papa questioningly.

“You have to open the box,” Papa prompted.

So, with Daddy's help, he tore open the tape to reveal a triangular shaped box tucked inside the longer one. “Anuvver?” he asked, exasperated.

“Last one,” Papa promised.

Reaching down into the box, Noah pulled the lid off the box. He promptly dropped it, his hands flying to his mouth. Inside the box was a beautiful acoustic guitar. The neck of the guitar was made of a natural wood leading down to a bright red body. Tucked underneath the strings was a little baggie of picks. Noah didn't say anything. He just stared at the instrument in the box, his hands at his mouth, his eyes welling with tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Papa murmured, holding him close. He rocked him back and forth.

“Can I show him?” Daddy asked, gesturing toward the guitar.

Papa nodded.

Daddy reached into the box and grabbed the guitar by the neck, pulling it out of the box. He flipped it over and moved his hand, showing Noah the place where they'd had his name burned into the wood. “Do you like it?” he whispered, unsure how to read the tears he saw in Noah's eyes.

The boy nodded wordlessly, a few of the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.

“Are those happy tears?” Papa asked quietly, wiping them away.

Another nod.

Daddy quickly put the guitar back in its box, coming around to sit next to Papa. He wrapped his arms around Papa and Noah and held them close, not saying anything. He just held them for a few minutes until Noah felt like he had some words.

“Thank you,” the boy eventually whispered, his voice wet with emotion. “Thank you.”

Papa squeezed him tight. “You're welcome, my Noah,” he said. “We thought you might miss playing. We couldn't get yours,” he started to apologize, “bu--”

“I love it,” Noah said. He was feeling bigger right now. He didn't really want to be, but this gift had meant so much. “Really. It's perfect.”

“Good.” Daddy smooched his cheek. He could tell Noah was teetering on the edge, right between his headspaces, so he decided to help. “Shall we read one of your new stories?” he asked. “Then, we can set out cookies for Santa, hang up our stockings, and go to bed.” It wasn't that he didn't want Noah to play his guitar now. Based on his reaction, he thought he might prefer to have a little time to think about it.

Grateful for Daddy's distraction, Noah nodded. He handed Clifford over to Daddy. “Read,” he said, settling back.

The boys enjoyed their book, and Noah's tears subsided completely as they read. He was blown away by Daddy and Papa's kindness to him, and he was determined he was going to make it up to them somehow. He couldn't think about that right then, however. He was getting sleepy, and Daddy and Papa wouldn't like him arguing to stay up late.

After the story, Daddy rose to his feet. “Cookies?” he asked Papa. At Noah's excited face, he amended, “Cookies for Santa?”

“Yes,” Papa replied, laughing. “Come on, Noah. You can pick them out.”

Noah raced to the kitchen, pulling out the box of cookies they had left and looking inside. He selected a candy cane that he had made, a reindeer that Papa made, and a snowflake that Daddy had made. “Here,” he said, holding them out to Papa.”

Then, Daddy helped him pour a glass of milk and carry the cup and the plate back to the living room. Papa retrieved the stockings, and the three boys hung them on their hooks. Then, Daddy and Papa hustled Noah off to his bathroom, helping him brush his teeth and wash his face from his sticky tears. 

“Nuvver book?” Noah asked after Daddy pulled the blankets up to his chin.

“I dunno. Papa, what do you think?” Daddy asked, grinning.

“It's Christmas. Let's read another story,” Papa agreed. “Do you want a new one?”

“Yurtle!”

“Yurtle it is. Be right back.” Papa returned a moment later with the book in hand, and the three of them cuddled on the bed as Papa read the book. He gave each character a silly voice, making Daddy and Noah laugh their pants off. After the story, it was time for lights out. “Good night, my Noah,” Papa said, kissing his nose and both cheeks. “Merry Christmas.”

“Good night, my Noah,” Daddy said, following Papa's lead and giving him a few silly kisses. “Merry Christmas.”

“Ni' ni',” Noah yawned widely. “Mewwy Cwis'mas.” He hadn't realized he was so tired until his head hit the pillow. In fact, he was out not long after Daddy and Papa turned off his light, dreaming of himself sitting in the Glee room, playing songs on his new guitar.

The next morning, when Noah woke, he tried to decide what to do. He really wanted to see what Santa had brought, but he thought Daddy and Papa might be mad if he went to the living room alone. He was 'posed to stay in bed 'til Daddy or Papa came to get him. Deciding that it would be okay if he went to their room, Noah tiptoed down the hallway and slipped through their door. “Daddy!” he called. “Daddy! Wake up! Is Cwis'mas!” He poked at Daddy's cheek gently.

“Uhhhh,” Daddy groaned as he woke. “Noah?”

“Is Cwis'mas!” Noah repeated, bouncing on his knees between Daddy and Papa.

“Uhhhhh,” Daddy moaned again, rolling over.

Noah decided to try Papa next. “Papa! Papa! Is Cwis'mas! Wake up!” He tapped Papa's exposed shoulder.

“Noooo,” Papa whined, hiding his head under his pillow. “Wanna sleep,” he grumbled.

“No fair,” Noah pouted, pooching his lip out. “Is Cwis'mas!”

“We're getting up, Noah,” Daddy assured, patting absently at his knee. “We're getting up.” He leaned rolled to his side and lifted Papa's pillow, kissing his cheek. “We're getting up, aren't we?” he asked softly.

Papa groaned again. “Do we have to?”

“Is Cwis'mas!” Noah repeated, bouncing again. “Gottsa get up!”

“Fine,” Papa grumbled, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. “I'm up.”

Daddy kissed him again. “I'll start the coffee,” he said, climbing out of bed. “Come on, my Noah. Let's make Papa some coffee.”

Ten minutes later, Papa came trudging down the hallway. He still looked groggy, but his grumpy face was gone. He accepted the steamy cup Daddy handed to him, and he took a sip, smiling. “Ready to see what Santa brought?” he asked the little boy at the table who was slurping down a sippy cup of apple juice.

“Yeah!” Noah race to the living room, stopping a few feet from the tree to stare. “Look,” he said, pointing to the game and the book that were lying under the tree. “Santa comed! He comed!” He hopped up and down excitedly.

“What did he bring?” Papa asked, settling onto the couch with his coffee.

“Candywand,” Noah read the box. “And, Da Book Wif No Pic'ures!” He gasped. “Daddy! Is the one I can write!” 

“It is?” Daddy asked, feigning shock. “Let me see.”

Noah ran to Daddy, the book clutched under his arm. “See?” he asked, hopping up and down. “Has a pwace for my name!”

“And what is your name?” Daddy asked, pretending he didn't know.

Noah laughed. “Is Noah, Daddy!”

“That's weird,” Daddy said, wrinkling his nose. “My name's Daddy. Why is your name Noah Daddy?”

Noah laughed again, louder. “No! Is just Noah!”

“Hi, Just Noah,” Daddy said, holding out his hand. “I'm Daddy.”

Papa chuckled at his husband's antics. It made him so happy to hear their little boy laugh. “What's in your stocking?” he asked Noah.

Noah gasped again. “I forgetted to look!” he said, racing to the fireplace. He grabbed each of their stockings and brought them over. “Daddy,” he said, handing Blaine his stocking. “Papa.” Then, he peeked inside his. “Candy!” he yelled, dumping his stocking upside down. “An' baf cwayons!”

“Woah. Santa really knows what we like,” Daddy said. “He brought me a bowtie.” He pulled out a green tie with little reindeer on it.

“Well, he brought me some new drawing pencils,” Papa said, pulling out his gift. “Santa's really smart.”

Noah held up a piece of candy, looking questioningly at Daddy and Papa.

“One piece,” Papa agreed. “Then no more until after breakfast. At least.”

Daddy laughed. This had been Papa's idea. Good luck keeping Noah out of his candy. 

Suddenly, Noah went running down the hallway. A moment later, he was back, his arms full of his new books. “Is time for book party!” he announced, plopping onto the couch between Daddy and Papa.

“Careful,” Papa reprimanded, pointing at his mug. “We don't want to spill.”

“Sowwy,” Noah replied, too distracted by his books to really feel badly. “Dis one.” He held out a Ninja Turtle book to Daddy.

“What do you say?” Daddy asked, taking the book.

“Pwease!”

“Alright,” he agreed, opening it up.

“Wait!” Papa called. “Noah, have you had a good first Christmas, sweetheart?” he asked, just wanting to make sure he and Blaine hadn't overstepped.

Noah shook his head. “No, Papa.” 

Papa opened his mouth to apologize, but Noah cut him off. 

“I had the best first Cwis'mas! Fank you!” He wrapped his Daddy and his Papa into a tight hug, giving each of them a quick smooch on their cheeks before letting go, his cheeks coloring a bit in embarrassment.

“We've had best first Christmas with you,” Daddy agreed, giving Noah a kiss of his own. “In fact, I think this one might be my favorite.”

“Mine, too,” Papa agreed. “Mine, too.”


	3. Epilogue - Talking's More Than Words

A few weeks later, as Blaine was walking past Noah's door, he heard the faint sounds of Noah singing along with his guitar. Their boy had spent a lot of time with his instrument since Christmas Eve, but, so far, he hadn't played anything for them yet. Curious, Blaine cracked his door a bit to listen in.

“And then all of a sudden, ah, it seemed so strange to me  
How we went from something's different to a family  
Lookin' back all I can say about all they did for me  
Is I hope I'm at least half the men that they didn't have to be”

Noah's voice was soft and clear, ringing with a vibrato as he strummed the chords to the song. Daddy didn't know what it was that he was singing, but it sounded beautiful. 

Not wanting to creep on the boy any longer, he wrapped at the door gently. “Noah?” he asked, coming into the room. “What are you playing, sweetheart?”

Noah blushed. “It's nothin',” he mumbled. “Jus' somethin' I'm messin' with.” When he played, he always seemed to grow up just a little, but Daddy and Papa didn't seem to mind.

“It sounded beautiful,” Daddy said, taking a seat on his bed. “Will you play it for me?”

“I dunno,” Noah said, pushing the papers around in front of him. “It's not very good. I just...I changed some lyrics around.”

“You don't have to,” Daddy responded. “I just like hearing you play. You have such a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks,” Noah said, blushing brighter. “I guess I could...”

“Just a little,” Daddy said, sure he was going to cry. “You don't have to play the whole thing.”

“'kay,” Noah replied. He turned back toward the tabs in front of him, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He didn't know why he was so nervous to play for Daddy. He'd heard him sing before back in Glee club. Maybe it was the song... He strummed a few soft chords on his guitar and began.

“When a little boy finds a brand new family  
He doesn't always want to go home immediately  
I used to think that they would wind up hating me  
They would find out about me and then turn around and run

I met the men I call Daddy and Papa recently  
They took me home and gave me hugs and said that they love me  
A few months later, I remember, it was Christmas Eve  
They gave me the best day ever and I realized they agreed

And then all of a sudden, ah, it seemed so strange to me  
How we went from something's different to a family  
Lookin' back all I can say about all they did for me  
Is I hope I'm at least half the men that they didn't have to be”

Noah let his voice fade away with the vibrations of the guitar strings before he glanced cautiously at Daddy. 

There were tears in Daddy's eyes. “Did you write that for us?” he asked.

Noah nodded. “Yeah...it's not done, and I'm borrowing the melody and some of the words, but...I wanted to--”

“It's perfect, my Noah,” Daddy said, coming over to where the boy was sitting and giving him a kiss to his temple. “I love it.” He pulled away and made eye contact with the boy. “Will you play it for Papa?”

“He's busy,” Noah said, shrugging.

“Not too busy for you,” Daddy replied. “He would love to hear that.”

Taking a deep breath, Noah nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I will.” What was the point of writing it for them if they never got to hear it? He quietly followed Daddy down the hallway to their office. He didn't really go in there much when he was little, and it seemed weird to be coming in now.

“Papa?” Daddy said softly, touching the other man on the shoulder. “Noah has a song he'd like to play for us.”

Noah ducked his head, embarrassed again. “It's not done,” he repeated when Kurt turned in his chair. “But Daddy said you'd yike to hear it.”

His speech was slipping, probably from embarrassment, Daddy noted. “Go ahead whenever you're ready, sweetheart,” he said, sitting down in his office chair and rolling it over next to Papa's.

Noah sat on the floor and arranged the tabs in front of him. He stared at them long and hard for a few moments, concentrating on what he was about to do instead of who was in the room. Then, he took a couple of deep breaths and began.

“When a little boy finds a brand new family  
He doesn't always want to go home immediately...”

As he began, his voice was soft and shaky with nerves. As he continued, though, it got stronger.

“I met the men I call Daddy and Papa recently  
They took me home and gave me hugs and said that they love me...”

He tried not to let the words he was singing hit him too hard, emotionally. They meant a lot to him, both Daddy and Papa and the lyrics. That's why he'd written them. He knew if he got choked up, they wouldn't hear the message he was trying to send them, though.

“And then all of a sudden, ah, it seemed so strange to me  
How we went from something's different to a family  
Lookin' back all I can say about all they did for me  
Is I hope I'm at least half the men that they didn't have to be”

By the time the song was over, his voice was clear, and strong. He sang the chorus one more time through, just to get his point across. When the last note faded, he found himself wrapped in the strong arms of the two men whom he'd grown to love so much.

“Noah,” Papa said, tears running down his cheeks. “That was so beautiful. Thank you for sharing them with us.” He smiled through his tears. “You have no idea how happy that made me,” he whispered.

“That was wonderful,” Daddy said, kissing his cheek. “So, so good. We love you.”

“Yes,” Papa agreed, kissing his other cheek. “We love you so much. You'll always be our little boy; you'll always be our family. No matter what.”

Noah nodded, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, too. “I've wanted to say that to you guys for a while,” he explained, wiping at his cheeks and nose with the back of his hand and sniffing loudly. “'m jus' not very good wif words.” He settled back into his little space. There were too many big people things to think about if he tried to stay big for this part. This was Daddy and Papa. He was their Noah. That's how it was supposed to be.

“You can always sing us a song,” Daddy said, “if something's too hard for you to say.”

Noah nodded. “'kay.” 

They all stayed huddled in their hug for a few minutes, crying and trying to understand this new thing they'd just discovered about their new family. It was what they'd always hoped would happen, but they hadn't been sure how to get there.

After a few moments, Daddy broke the silence. “I could really go for some ice cream right now,” he chuckled. “Ice cream party on the couch?”

“Give me just one minute,” Papa agreed, rising. “I have to finish something in here. Then, I'll be out.”

Daddy and Noah stood, too. Daddy offered Noah his hand, and the little boy took it, his guitar and music clutched tightly in his other. “We'll get the ice cream and spoons,” Daddy said as he led Noah out the door.

“Save some for me,” Papa called after them. “I'm serious. Don't let Noah be a little ice cream monster.”

“Rawr, Papa!” Noah called back. “Be fas'!”

Daddy laughed. “Come on,” he said, tugging at Noah's hand. “Let's see how much ice cream we can eat before Papa gets to the living room.” He pulled Noah toward his room quickly so they could drop off the guitar.

“I heard that!” Papa called, racing by Noah's door. “Last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg!”

“No fair,” Papa!” Noah called after him, sprinting down the hallway with Daddy hot on his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Noah changes the lyrics to is He Didn't Have to Be by Brad Paisley  
> Thank you to JayhawkWrites for adding this song to your list of favorites. It inspired me.


End file.
